


Under the blue trees

by LadyHella



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-18 07:28:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21990475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyHella/pseuds/LadyHella
Summary: Yuki wears a girl's kimono, waiting for someone special
Relationships: Rurikawa Yuki/Sumeragi Tenma
Comments: 4
Kudos: 94





	Under the blue trees

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nigeeeta](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=nigeeeta).



> A3! Secret Santa for Riku (@nigeeeta). I hope you will like it! Happy holidays!  
> Also, many thanks and hugs to my dear friend @ji_tera for beta-reading and translation. <3

Nighttime Shibuya was like a Chinese shawl, all colors, and sparkle, and entirely too cold to be good for you, but Yuki liked it. Usually, he did anyway.

He stared at the clocktower from under a paper edge of his bamboo umbrella. Quarter to seven, perfect timing to get worried. His throat was getting blocked with anxiety, anger at himself cementing it like a mortar.

Yuki peeked at his vague reflection in a shop window and took stock, head to toes, ready to jump into damage control mode. However, his kimono was perfectly straight, fur shawl draped and obi tied expertly. A glance into his pocket mirror - a proper accessory for the look, decorated with matching fabric - established there was no fault with his makeup as well. Azu-nee and Azami took their time with him and it showed so.

Yuki took a deep breath, and let it out on a countdown. The last time he wavered over his fashion choices that much was around a tender age of five or so. Was this kimono too much? Not enough?

Passersby were staring at him, some just a tad bit more polite than others. On another day Yuki would have brushed it off as the traditional garment drawing due attention, but right now his own anxiety was coloring every glance judgemental, every stare hostile.

\- What a lovely boy. And his kimono is beautiful too, - a feeble voice spoke behind him, and Yuki strained to keep from hurling himself around. A kimono-clad lady - of an age when one can afford to speak their mind whenever and wherever - shuffled by, leaning both on her walking stick and a younger companion. She kept looking back at Yuki with a smile.

A younger woman at her side caught Yuki’s eyes and smiled apologetically. 

\- What are you saying, nana, - her voice was tinged with tension, - it’s a girl.

Behind her back, the lady smiled at Yuki too. Unlike her granddaughter’s, her smile was loaded with understanding, and there definitely was a dusting of mirth on top. She said nothing though.

Yuki chuckled and gave a polite bow, his mood lightening with every puff of breath. The buzz of anxiety was still there, but now it was just background noise.

All his fashion knowledge turned out to be lacking in the face of dressing himself for… Well, they didn’t call it a date even between themselves. A walk. A stroll through all eight floors of Tokyu Hands and a trip to karaoke after. 

Still, while choosing an outfit Yuki had that feeling, that he wasn’t just dressing up to express himself, but also to complement his… date. That was a warm thought, it heated up Yuki’s cheeks. All of a sudden he got a craving for an overly sweet Starbucks coffee, heaping with cream so that he could bury himself in it and never come out again.

\- Yuki!

He turned around in a flurry of long sleeves, heavy fabric flapping. Tenma finally stopped waving and came closer. He was probably smiling under his flu mask. Most likely smiling awkwardly, a pity Yuki had no way to see for himself. Yuki had a stray thought - the one which should have hit home much earlier, really - that asking a famous actor to meet up under the Starbucks Xmas tree in the middle of Tokyo was a brave thing to do. In his defense, at the time he was dazed by Tenma’s stuttered invitation.

And here was Tenma. Clutching a patterned paper cup of seasonal gingerbread latte with chocolate topping, Yuki’s favorite. This routine show of care was, frankly speaking, no different from all the juice freebies shoved into Yuki’s hands, but right here, right now it sparkled the special kind of joy.

Flocked by couples, cosplayers, and insta-junkies, Tenma and Yuki walked side by side among bluish illumination climbing the trees and reflecting in multiple mirror surfaces. And then Tenma took his hand. At the steady touch of his cold fingers, Yuki got lightheaded, all his thoughts evaporating into chilly December air. Tenma’s ears were red, and his eyes a bit guarded, he seemed to be waiting for Yuki to snatch his hand away.

And then, not as steady and maybe a bit wobbly, Yuki smiled at him.


End file.
